


Worth the Wait

by fractualized



Category: Batman: The Telltale Series (Video Game)
Genre: Anal Sex, Established Relationship, Hand Jobs, M/M, Oral Sex, Plus a little plot, Porn with Feelings, Post Vigilante Route, featuring a cameo by Matches Malone
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-10-11
Updated: 2018-10-11
Packaged: 2019-07-29 11:52:33
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 6,384
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16263656
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/fractualized/pseuds/fractualized
Summary: Bruce and John participate in an Arkham pilot program for conjugal visits. They have a good time and watch some TV.





	Worth the Wait

**Author's Note:**

> There is some bullshit in this world, so you can either take this is porn, or take it as an escape into two people able to be together despite terrible circumstances. Versatility!

Dr. Leland had discussed the idea with John first, and the only response he could manage at the time was enthusiastic nodding. When Bruce came in for his next visit, Leland had him meet her and John in her office. She sat at her desk, looking as professional as usual with her white coat, her serious expression, and her hands folded on her desk. Bruce and John sat side-by-side on the couch across from her. John grinned eagerly at Bruce with his hands clasped together, but Bruce still seemed nervous.

"Is something wrong?" he asked.

The last time Leland had called them into her office, she'd asked about gossip going 'round the asylum and asked point blank if they were a couple.

_("Well, we certainly are two individuals!" John said brightly._

_"Yes," Bruce said carefully. "We are a couple of people."_

_Leland gave them an unimpressed stare. "And you both aren't this obtuse.")_

Then she'd assured them that Arkham was not so barbaric as to bar patients from romantic relationships-- but keeping those relationships a secret made them suspect. So as long as Bruce and John followed guidelines about the "extent of their contact," because John's health was in the care of the state, they could carry on.

Maybe this time Bruce was worried that more rumors were spreading about how well they'd been totally adhering to those guidelines...

"No, nothing is wrong," Leland said. "I'm wondering if you and John would like to participate in a pilot program. It's been Board-approved, and the other doctors and I think it will be a great asset to patient rehabilitation and recovery."

"That sounds great," Bruce said, at ease now, looking from her to John. "What's the program?"

Leland coughed. "It's based on some models used in mental health facilities in Europe. There is strong evidence that helping patients maintain their longterm relationships to the fullest extent does a great deal for their mental health. It improves morale, increases adherence to treatment plans, and reminds patients of what they are working toward. The result is a decrease in relapses and recidivism."

Bruce nodded. "Makes sense. So what does this involve?"

"One particular aspect of relationships is typically denied to patients because of liability concerns about their physical health. But patients like John, who have been doing well in treatment and have good behavior records, could be allowed to be, ah, freer in their romantic conduct."

Bruce didn't get it at first, his brow furrowing. Then his face turned red. "You're saying--"

John hopped onto his knees and grabbed Bruce's shoulders. "They're gonna let us have sex!" he cheered.

Leland smiled a little. "If we're going to be blunt."

Bruce fumbled in his words a bit, but he agreed to the conjugal visit program.

A few psychology consultants were brought in to have Very Serious Discussions with John. To cover the state's behind, they needed to be sure that he was in some special bureaucratic zone where he couldn't be trusted to leave Arkham but he was allowed to consent to sexual relations. It did grate his nerves a bit to have randos assessing whether or not it was okay for him to have sex. On the other hand, he was happy to "yeah, sure, okay" his way into finally seeing Bruce's dick.

Not that John hadn't gotten close. Oh, he and Bruce got _very_ close when they stole some privacy in obstructed corners of the garden. Bruce always tried to be gentlemanly and stop before they got too hot and bothered, but, well, John was persistent, and it was too fun to watch Bruce leave very much bothered.

John also had to undergo blood tests, and the program required that Bruce did, too. Plus a sex ed teacher met with John to give him a crash course about hanky panky. He expected someone as clinical as the psych consultants, but this lady actually had a sense of humor and he was disappointed when she had to leave.

Bruce definitely didn't need a sex ed course. John had asked him once, if so much in the tabloids was made up, what did that mean for the saucy tales disclosed by his more talkative dates? Bruce had managed a very cute blush while keeping a straight face, and said that while he'd never met some of those people, the ones who'd actually been in his bed certainly seemed happy.

He'd also said that any reported flings now, when he and John were together, were definitely false. And John had said that he understood if Bruce had urges, if he wanted to vent them with someone... John knew it wouldn't affect their bond. And Bruce had almost been angry, saying he would never treat John that way.

Which was good, because John had absolutely been lying, and fantasizing about wrecking homewreckers probably wasn't helpful to his progress.

One of the many buildings scattered on the Arkham grounds was renovated for the program. As a major donor to the Arkham rehaul, Bruce had gotten a glimpse of the conjugal facility when it was nearly done, and he said there was a common area you walked into, where there'd be an orderly to keep an eye on things. Then there were three bedrooms that were soundproofed, which was disappointing because John thought it could be hilarious to hear other people going at it. Not that it mattered right now, since so far only he and Bruce were participating in the pilot.

The Big Day arrived, and John got ready the best he could. He was already a cleanly person (Arkham having too many examples of what happened when you neglected your hygiene), but he was extra thorough in the shower. His uniform was sort-of ironed; Arkham patients had a little trick for special days, where you neatly laid your clothes on the solid frame beneath the mattress, so when you slept your body could press them flat. A patient from the female ward had recently taught him a trick for makeup, where you wet magazine ads and transferred the color to your skin, but some staff members were pickier than others about the rules. John didn't want to get a demerit on today of all days. Normally Bruce visited for the max two hours, but with this pilot, they'd be together for six hours on one day a month.

In the conjugal facility, John sat in a cushioned chair in the common area next to the nurse who'd escorted him. His leg jittered and he tried not to look at the clock. Bruce wasn't late yet, so there was no need to worry, but for all John knew some disaster had happened out in the city and Batman had save a bunch of lives. Sure, that was important, but this wasn't _not_ important.

The main door opened, and Bruce was led in by an orderly. He carried a tote bag, and John couldn't help but giggle at his ideas of what was inside. Plus Bruce almost looked like he was coming back from the Robinson Park farmer's market in his pressed khakis and crisp white shirt. Regardless, he was as handsome as always. John leaped from his seat to press a kiss to Bruce's mouth.

Bruce wrapped his arms around John and said affectionately, "How are you this morning?"

"Great!" was all John could think to say. He could feel himself trembling slightly. He hadn't realized he was that anxious.

The nurse stood and cleared her throat, and Bruce pulled away but held John's hand. They followed her into the one of the bedrooms.

"Alright," she said, gesturing around the undecorated room, "you'll be in here today. Through that door is a full bathroom with basic toiletries and towels and whatnot. TV in front of the bed, next to the mini-fridge and microwave. There are some board games in the common space should you want to..." Somehow it was here she got flustered. "If you want to take a break from, uh, things. And there'll be an orderly out there if something comes up."

"I think we're supposed to take care of things that come up," John snickered.

"I guess so!" she exclaimed, cheeks flaming red. "I'll leave you to it!" She hurried out and closed the door.

Finally, just him and Bruce! John was ready to get down to business, but Bruce got an intent look on his face. He placed the tote on a small table set up with two chairs by the bed, then walked over to examine the small, frosted windows high on the walls.

"Uhhh, what's up?" John asked.

"Just making sure the paparazzi didn't give anyone any bright ideas," Bruce replied. Apparently satisfied, he moved to the kitchen setup to inspect the cabinets.

John didn't think he would mind being recorded all that much. By now it was public knowledge that John, of all people, had bagged Bruce Wayne. And if that got people's knickers in a twist, imagine if they _saw_ it. John hummed happily as he started to empty the bag. "So what fun things did you bring?"

Now in the bathroom, Bruce glanced over. "Nothing out of the ordinary. It's awkward enough knowing that strangers are going to be inspecting lube and condoms."

John had tossed both of those on the table, along with an assortment of snacks, a couple of paper-wrapped hoagies, and a bottle of sparkling cider. Apparently finished with his inspection, Bruce picked up the bottle and sandwiches and took them to the mini-fridge. He crouched as he tossed the sandwiches in and laid the bottle on its side. John knelt next to him.

"I wanted to bring wine," Bruce said, turning, "but you know the-- mmph!"

John had grabbed his shirt and yanked him in for a kiss. Bruce fumbled to shut the fridge and fell on his back as John practically scrambled on top of him. They kissed feverishly until Bruce pried John's mouth away.

"We have a bed," Bruce panted. "How about we use it?"

Anywhere was good for John, but he pulled Bruce up and over to the bed. They kicked off their shoes, and Bruce barely sat down before John climbed onto his lap and attacked his mouth again. His hands fumbled with the buttons down the front of Bruce's shirt, revealing his bare chest bit by bit-- much too slowly. John was about to try ripping the fabric, but Bruce grabbed one of his wrists.

"I need to wear this out of here," he said.

"Says you," John retorted.

Bruce snorted and efficiently went through the rest of the buttons. John decided to take care of his own clothes, grabbing the hems of both his Arkham shirt and purple undershirt to pull them over his head. Of course, halfway through, his right hand lost its catch on the undershirt, which caught under his arm, trapping his head and arms.

"Help!" he cried.

Bruce laughed as he pulled the snag over John's elbow and freed him, tossing the shirts to the floor. John smiled gratefully. He pressed up against Bruce and couldn't help but pause; it was the most skin-to-skin contact they'd had, all the borderline garden stuff being over clothes. He felt a little airy, not dizzy, just floating. His hands gripped Bruce's shoulders to stay in place.

Bruce rubbed John's back and kissed his neck, working down to the faint healed burn in his left shoulder. Bruce had many more scars, real scars, from slashes and welts and gouges, and John's fingers traced them all. He lingered on Bruce's left side, on the scar that was John's fault, from the explosion at the police station. They'd talked about that, and he knew Bruce forgave him, but it was a harsh reminder that today needed to be good, that he wanted to make Bruce feel good. John reached down, to feel how much Bruce wanted that too, and... and...

He pulled back with a frown. "What's the matter?"

"What... Nothing." Bruce smoothed back his hair. "We only just got started."

"In the garden it's always like, BAM!" John said, illustrating with his hands.

"The garden is different," Bruce said defensively. "This room is... alien, and a little clinical."

It certainly wasn't homey, but... John smirked. "And we're supposed to be getting close in here." He tapped his fingers over Bruce's collarbone. "Not like the garden where we're being naauughtyyy and anyone could catch us."

Bruce turned bright red this time. "That is not it."

John chuckled knowingly, brushing their noses together.

"Maybe a little," Bruce grumbled. "But I just... there's a lot on my mind."

"Uh, all you should be thinking about is me!" John said, waving his arms up and down.

"I'm trying!" Bruce sighed. "Usually I can ignore the tabloids, but people are saying I'm the one who pushed Arkham to start this program just so I could have sex with you without legal repercussions. And I know that's not true, but I have been... I've been looking forward to it, and I wonder if that's making me miss any signs that maybe... not that you don't want to, but that it's so significant to you that we actually could be rushing things, not that it's not significant to me, but--" Bruce went silent when his cheeks were compressed by John's hands, forcing his mouth to pucker.

"You know I like your considerate side," John said patiently, "but I talked to lots of people about how I am ready and this is fine and pretended really hard that I am not very angry that I needed them to say it's okay." He paused and looked up at the ceiling. "Well, except for the education lady. She had some very good jokes about bananas." He returned his attention to Bruce. "The point is, there is nothing about this situation that says I don't absolutely want to have sex with you right now, or that you don't want to have sex with me, but all we're doing is sitting here"-- suddenly his patience scattered-- " _and your dick is still in your pants!_ "

Bruce blinked, then pulled his head out of John's grasp and cracked up.

"Oh, sure," John said with a pout, "laugh the only time nothing is funny."

"This the most serious I've ever seen you!"

John looked askance. "Well, this is, you know, an important day, like you said."

The laughter faded but Bruce's smile stayed. "It is," he said, pulling John closer by the waist.

Already John felt a little happier and he put his hands back on Bruce's shoulders. "Then get with the program."

"Yes, sir." Bruce kissed along John's jaw. "What did you have in mind?"

John shifted in Bruce's lap and tried to sort through the piles and piles of ideas he'd had over the past year without getting too distracted by that mouth. "I... I want to give you a blowjob." Maybe the direct approach would resolve Bruce's nerves.

There was a tiny pause, then Bruce's kisses moved down John's throat. "You ever give a blowjob before?"

"Uh, no," John said with a snort, "but this is a good time to start."

"Okay, so you'd want me to lay down like this?" But Bruce twisted to put John under him and ease him back with a hand to the chest.

"Yes?" John said, trying to sit up. He felt a thrill when Bruce had no trouble keeping him in place. His legs hooked over the edge of the bed, and Bruce's feet were braced on the floor as he settled over John.

"Then you'd work your way down," Bruce continued. His thumb tweaked John's nipple while his tongue traced the line from John's sternum to his navel. His other hand slipped down John's ribs.

This was not what John had said, but he did not mind where it was going. He propped himself on his elbows to watch Bruce move lower.

Bruce knelt on the floor now. "Obviously these are in the way," he said as he hooked his fingers into the waistband of both John's pants and boxers. He slowly pulled them down, nails dragging over John's hips as his erection sprang up. His pale penis had a faint pink tinge from the blood rush. Bruce pulled the fabric off John's legs. "Sound right so far?" he asked. 

"Um," was John's very articulate response as Bruce gripped his thighs.

"Then you'd either get right to it..." Bruce's warm breath ghosted the head of John's cock. "Or be mean and tease." He left a wet, sucking kiss close to the juncture of John's thigh and groin. John jerked reflexively when Bruce's cheek brushed against his balls. "Though it's not actually mean if you're good at it."

Bruce was probably very good at it. But John really wanted those lips to get to his dick. He should say so once he remembered how to speak.

Luckily, Bruce decided, "We have time to draw things out later."

A high, sharp noise left John's lungs as Bruce tilted his head and wrapped his mouth partway around John's shaft. He kissed his way up incrementally until finally his lips closed around the head. John groaned and grabbed at the bedding as his whole body tensed.

Bruce's hand joined his lips and tongue in steadily pulling at that tension, dragging it to a point low in John's belly. Bruce's other hand curled around John's hip, his thumb stroking the skin there at each of John's moans. John let himself collapse. As amazing as it was to watch Bruce between his legs, the sight was winding John up more quickly than he wanted. It was a wonderfully awful position to be in, where he didn't want this to end but still desperately wanted to be launched over the edge.

"Bruce," John whined as his hips lurched upward, but even just one of Bruce's hands was sure and strong enough to hold him in place.

Bruce hummed in acknowledgement, and John whimpered again at the spike of pleasure in his cock. Stars sparked across the blank ceiling. His right hand kept a tight grip on the covers while the other reached down to lace his fingers in Bruce's hair, confirmation that Bruce was really here. This wasn't some fantastic dream from which he'd inevitably wake to feel only longing. Bruce was real: the roughness of his hands, the warmth of his mouth, the caress of his tongue--

John's spine arched as he cried out, yanking at the roots on Bruce's head. Bruce didn't complain; he just slowed his suction through the climax and soothingly rubbed from John's hip to his thigh. Bruce finally pulled away as John caught his breath, noting how his soft dick felt far too cool. But the rest of John felt loose and happy, and low laughter bubbled out of his chest.

"How was that?" Bruce asked smugly, wiping the corner of his mouth.

John felt a little woozy, but he managed to reach down and pull Bruce onto the bed to kiss him. John could taste his own bitterness but hardly cared. When they parted, he said, "You stole my idea."

"It was a very good idea," Bruce murmured, and the proof pressed against John's thigh.

"Altruistic to the core," John said with a smirk. Then he looked down and scowled. "Your pants are still on!"

Bruce kissed John's forehead and got up to unfasten his belt. Sitting up, John swatted his hands away to do it himself. He ignored Bruce's chuckle, pulled the leather strap out of its loops, and flung it aside. He made quick work of Bruce's pants too, shoving them down so Bruce could step out of them. 

John wet his lips as he looked at the straining fabric of Bruce's boxer-briefs. He pressed his hand against the cloth-covered cock, rubbing experimentally as he looked up at Bruce's face. Bruce stroked John's shoulders, waiting patiently, though his breathing got deeper. A part of John was loathe to let go of all this anticipation, but he certainly didn't want a lack of momentum to let Bruce get less excited and more thinky again.

He peeled down Bruce's underwear by the elastic waistband. He bit his bottom lip and laughed as Bruce's cock slipped free and pointed eagerly forward. Leaving the underwear stretched around Bruce's thighs, John lightly traced his fingers along a vein in Bruce's shaft. His other hand followed the thin tissue of a scar from Bruce's hip down to his leg. Bruce was as controlled as usual; his lips parted just a fraction, in sharp but slight inhale.

Somehow with John's prize literally at his fingertips, there was something else he wanted to see more. He snapped the elastic around Bruce's legs. "Get these off and lay down."

"Change of plan?" Bruce asked, but he did as he was told, laying in the middle of the bed. 

"What's life without spontaneity?" John said as he grabbed the bottle of lube from the table. He straddled Bruce's thighs and leaned up to kiss him again. His stomach brushed against Bruce's cock and the other man's chest hitched.

John sat back and flipped open the bottle, drawing clear lines from his palm down two fingers. He tossed the bottle aside, hearing it thump on the floor, and wrapped his white fingers around Bruce's blood-flushed penis. He started with slow strokes, trying to memorize the feel of Bruce in his hand, the girth and the texture, for when he was alone and missing his Bat. He was delighted at the instant reaction; Bruce's abdominal muscles were so wedded to his skin that every twitch was visible. 

"I've imagined you so much during private playtime," John said not-so-idly. "Have you thought about me?"

"You know I have," Bruce said, voice strained already. His fingers curled into the covers.

John thought of Bruce's quiet confessions in the shadows of the maple trees. "Yeah, but I don't really _know_. You were always afraid someone would overhear dirty talk." He ended the statement in a stage whisper that dissolved into giggles, then looked fondly down at Bruce's leaking head. John stopped at the height of a stroke to roll his thumb around the slit. "Now it's just us. I wanna know what you think about."

Bruce swallowed. "I think about you touching yourself."

John smiled and started stroking again, a bit faster than before. "Like this?"

Bruce closed his eyes and nodded. "And your chest, and sucking on your fingers."

"Oh, what a minx," John purred.

One of Bruce's hands grasped John's knee. "I think about you laughing, having fun."

John laughed now, not just for Bruce but because, "I am absolutely having fun."

If he hadn't just been sucked off, John would be rock hard, watching the prized Bruce Wayne, the mighty Batman, come apart at his touch. Because Bruce allowed it, Bruce trusted him, Bruce loved him and only him. Bruce had said, "I love you," so sweetly, forcing himself to maintain eye contact, like he was afraid a breeze would sweep through the Arkham grounds and take John away.

With his free hand, John squeezed the hand over his knee, then gripped Bruce's wrist and rubbed his thumb over the smooth skin there. "What kind of fun do we have, buddy?"

"You get your fingers wet, and you-- you put them inside yourself, to get ready for me."

"You have me doing an awful lot of work," John commented, increasing the pressure of his strokes slightly, but only because he knew Bruce would like it.

The evidence was apparent; Bruce's hips jerked and he opened his eyes. He looked right at John. "I want you to show me what you like. I-- ah-- I'd happily do it for you."

"You think so passively," John chuckled. "I think about you _ravenous._ Just holding me down, and having me any which way, because I'm absolutely yours." He grinned widely. "Feel free to add that to your spank bank."

"I'm yours, John," Bruce said, his gaze locked. "I don't know when I'm not thinking about you."

John felt warm all over. "What other things about me could you be thinking?"

Bruce pushed himself up. The pace of John's hand faltered only for a moment when Bruce grabbed his face and said, "I think about fucking you in the manor." He kissed John deeply, until a moan forced their lips apart. "I want you out of here," he gasped, and his face fell into John's shoulder. "With me."

John clutched the back of Bruce's neck and stroked him faster. Bruce dug his fingers into John's hips as he came with a low cry, spurting onto their stomachs and John's hand. 

They sat like that for a bit, Bruce taking deep breaths to pull himself back together, back into tough and handsome. But John liked him sweet and pretty, too, and cupped his face to kiss it all over. John couldn't be with Bruce all the time, but he was here now.

* * *

They cleaned up and settled in for a little TV before another round. John considered the activity so far to be, uh, fantastic, but he was surprised how much he liked just laying in bed. He sat with his back to Bruce's font and Bruce's arms looped around him. John's arms hooked up over Bruce's as if to lock him there. They were still naked, and the covers were pulled up to John's waist. People praised cuddling, of course, but John hadn't been sure if something so... unenergetic could compare to his rougher fantasies.

But sitting here, enveloped in Bruce's warmth, knowing that Bruce was happy just to be with him like this, John definitely got the appeal.

A gameshow was on the screen. The current contestant had to guess the retail price of basic grocery store items.

And Bruce was _awful_ at it.

"Eight ninety-five?" John exclaimed, trying to turn his head so Bruce could see his disbelief. "That's how much you think bread is?"

"I pay someone to handle groceries," Bruce said defensively.

"Including fancy, organic, free-range bread." John snickered. "I've only ever stolen bread, and I still know you can get it for way less than nine bucks."

"You should've stolen the fancy bread," Bruce said, stroking John's hair, "if it's such a rip-off."

John covered his mouth in horror. "Are you sanctioning theft?"

"Yes," Bruce said. He moved his mouth to John's ear. "I really have been a scoundrel all the long."

"Dun dun dunnnnn!" John giggled as Bruce kissed his neck. "Reinvigorating the mob, are we?"

"Too much responsibility. Nah, I'm just an associate." Bruce paused, then chuckled and said it again with a nasally upstate accent. "I'm just an associate, doll."

John twisted around with a gleeful laugh, straddling one of Bruce's thighs. "Just an associate?" he said, rubbing his chin. "Should I be wasting my time with a small-timer?"

Bruce tweaked John's cheek. "Best way ta not get caught is ta stay under the radar, babe."

"Doing what?"

Bruce considered a moment. "Arson."

John guffawed. "How do you stay under the radar with arson?!"

"Make it look like an accident and avoid casualties." Bruce shrugged as if setting strategic, untraceable fires was the simplest thing in the world. (And for him, it probably would be.)

"Of course, no casualties," John said with a grin.

"Nobody gets hurt, and I get a few grand." He pulled John closer. "Ya don't need to be a hatchet man to get some scratch to take a looker like yaself out on the town."

"And whose arm am I on?"

"Uh..." Bruce clearly hadn't thought this far. "Jimmy the..."

"No, no, Jimmy is a punk, not an arsonist!" John said. He gave Bruce's face very serious consideration, then his face lit up. "I got it! A nickname: Matches!"

The corner of Bruce's mouth quirked up. "Oh, we're doing a theme."

"What, you're against themes now?" John said. He tapped Bruce's bottom lip. "Instead of a toothpick, you always have a match."

"The better to light your fire?" Bruce's hands slid lower to John's rear.

John grinned and leaned in close. "Ooh, with that wordplay?"

"And other play." Bruce moved one hand between them and started stroking John lightly.

John pressed his forehead to Bruce's and looked down to watch. Bruce's touch didn't get any faster or rougher, but that only made it wonderful torture. Combined with the other hand kneading John's ass, it was certainly enough to get him hard again. He slung an arm around Bruce's neck to anchor himself while reaching down to make sure Bruce was just as excited. It did not take long.

Bruce panted, "You are a choice bit of calico, let me tell ya."

John summoned the incredible will to let go of Bruce's cock and grab the other man's wrist. "Let's put Matches away for now." He drew back slightly and held Bruce by the shoulders, looking at his face. "I want to be you and me for this."

"This?" Bruce repeated, the accent gone. He trailed his fingers up John's side.

John shivered and kissed Bruce's smile. "I'm not going to wait to be in the mansion for you to screw me."

"If that's what you want," Bruce said. "There are plenty of other things we could do to work up to anal sex."

John tittered. "I am worked up plenty."

Another kiss, then Bruce disentangled himself to retrieve a condom from the table and the lube bottle from the floor. John laid back, pulling one of the pillows under his head, and felt a bolt of excitement when Bruce knelt between his spread, bent legs.

"Tell me if it hurts," Bruce said.

John rubbed his calf along Bruce's side and watched lube up his fingers. "I hope it does."

"I'm being serious," Bruce said with an admonishing look.

John refrained from rolling his eyes. "I know the difference between good pain and bad pain."

Bruce sighed and laid over him. "I know you do. It just... It can be too easy to get carried away."

That just sounded like even more fun, but John knew it would cause a big old mess if Arkham staff considered him injured-- which was another thing he didn't need Bruce thinking about, so he didn't bring it up.

Instead, John wrapped his arms around Bruce's neck and smiled. "I'll tell you. Promise." His smile got wider. "But I think we can negotiate on this in the future."

Bruce looked almost grim, but he nodded. "For now," he said, "try to relax." He leaned down for a long, licking kiss, and his hand brushed past their erections.

John giggled as a single slick finger slid into him. "Soooo careful."

"It's called buildup, John," Bruce said, but he didn't wait long before pressing in a second digit.

"Hmm, been building up a couple years now," John commented, but he closed his eyes and focused on the slide and stretch and pull. It hurt a little at first, but no differently than when John touched himself, and soon enough his hips were moving with Bruce's hand.

"Do you like that, John?" Bruce asked quietly.

John opened his eyes and felt his cock twitch at how intently Bruce was watching his face. "Uh huh," he replied, and gasped when Bruce added a third finger and pressed deep. John let his arms fall to either side of his head.

Bruce had definitely not been lying; he was happy to do the work. He pressed his lips to John's face and neck, leaving behind murmurs that sent a thrill to John's gut-- "you can be louder" and "can't wait to feel you" and "you look amazing."

Finally, John couldn't take anymore and grabbed Bruce by the hair. "Now."

"Are you--"

"Now."

Bruce had another self-satisfied smirk and John had a wild urge to bite it off his face. Bruce sat back on his knees and picked up the condom packet.

John sat up and plucked it away. "Excuse me, I was trained for this," he said importantly. He tore open the foil and tossed it aside, then carefully rolled the condom over Bruce's erection.

Bruce watched and ran his hands over John's legs. "Now who's taking his time," he muttered.

"Oh, but you love preparation," John teased. He grabbed the lube. "And I want to keep you in the mood." He slowly slicked up Bruce's condom-sheathed cock. "How's this feel? I hear condoms put a damper--"

John abruptly found himself pushed back against the bed with a kiss. Bruce was actually trembling a little, and when he reached for the other pillow, his breathing was heavier. He nudged for John to lift his hips and pushed the pillow underneath him.

"Ready?" Bruce asked, even his voice tense from strained control.

John couldn't help but imagine Bruce's expression if the answer was "not yet." But they could play games later, so he nodded and eagerly wrapped his legs around Bruce's waist. Bruce guided his cock to John's entrance, and John's breath hitched at the pressure, at the clamp of Bruce's hand back around his hip. He held onto Bruce's back, and Bruce braced his other arm on the mattress as he pushed in with a ragged breath. An overwhelmed noise broke from John's throat.

Bruce paused. "Are you--"

"Yes yes _yes_ ," John said, clutching him tightly.

With a soft laugh, Bruce kept going, until he was fully seated, and he let his face drop into the hollow of John's neck.

"Ngh, finally," John moaned, delighting in the fullness, the connection, because Bruce was inside him and holding him and breathing harshly against his throat. He lightly dragged his nails across Bruce's back and laughed when the other man shuddered. "You okay there, buddy?"

"Yeah..." Bruce audibly swallowed and lifted his head. "You feel incredible," he said, pupils blown wide.

Almost drunkenly, John laughed, because he knew how long Bruce hadn't done this with anyone. As a famed playboy, he must have still had offers, which he turned down because he was devoted to John. Talk about buildup.

"Get to it, Brucie," John said.

Bruce rose a little and drew back steadily-- John bit his lip at the pull inside him-- then sank back in, dragging a moan out of both of them. He did it again, and again, setting an even pace, and it was _good_.

John craned his neck for a kiss and Bruce obliged him, until he broke away with a curse. "God, John..."

John needed more. "Harder," he demanded, trying to pull Bruce closer with his legs.

To his surprise, Bruce didn't hesitate. His hips snapped forward, and when John yelped, he asked, "Like that?"

"Yes," John gasped. "Absolutely."

His nails dug into the planes of Bruce's back as he babbled unnecessary encouragements. Bruce was not going to stop; any teasing mood had clearly left him. John's hip ached from his grip.

"I'm getting close, John," Bruce panted. "Can you touch yourself for me?"

Right now, John would slice out his own heart if Bruce asked. He closed his fingers, still with remnants of lube, around his dick. Each lovely slide of his hand matched Bruce's movements, and as Bruce looked down to watch, John heard his breaths get harsher.

"Like what you see?" John laughed.

Bruce swooped down to capture John's mouth in his, and his thrusts sped up. His hand joined John's between their bodies, jerking John off faster. John whimpered against his lips and tangled his other hand into the mess of Bruce's hair. At this point, he could only hold on, the pleasure twisting tighter and tighter.

The kiss broke and Bruce gasped John's name into his ear. John wanted to hear that over and over again, that desperation and need, for the rest of his life. Bruce's hips stuttered and he cried John's name again, his body going rigid. Another stroke from their joined hands and John came hard; for a moment it was almost like he was blind. His eyes were open but he didn't register what he was seeing. He only felt the bursts and sparks richocheting through his body, until the lights dimmed and he was back under Bruce's comforting weight.

For a moment they laid in a panting tangle. Then with a quick kiss, Bruce rolled off John and quickly got rid of the condom, depositing it into a trashcan by the bed. When he turned back he opened his arms for John, who was already reaching for him. John laid his hands flat against Bruce's chest and tucked his head under Bruce's chin.

Bruce stroked the hair at John's nape. "I love you," he said.

"I love you," John said against Bruce's collarbone. He tried to press every bit of himself into Bruce's body. "Pair bonding is no joke."

He could feel Bruce's chuckle against his cheek. "It is not."

"This is only once a month?"

Their next visit would be just another couple hours, and while John could certainly try to get up to all this in the garden or a closet, Bruce would put his foot down. Because if they got caught, typical visiting privileges could be suspended, nevermind wonderful days like today.

Bruce traced the rim of John's ear. "Don't jump ahead. We still have hours to go, buddy."

He was right, but John still took the moment to file this feeling away: the warmth of their bare skin, the rise and fall of their chests, even the smell of sweat and more. This memory and all the others, they would help. John had waited years to even meet Bruce. He could spend a few more tolerating this schedule, because after that John would walk out of here, and he and Bruce could do this whenever they wanted, in their bed.

_(They watched a bird build a nest in a crook of a tree. "The manor is so quiet," Bruce said. "It feels like it's waiting for you to come home.")_

John tilted his head back to offer Bruce a smile. "Yeah, I'm pretty sure you earned that playboy title, but to be absolutely sure, I'll need to gather more data."

"I'll let Matches know he won't be tagging in."

"I didn't say _that_..."

**Author's Note:**

> Months later, Bruce is doing reconnaissance on a local gang, and it's just supposed to be observation, but there's a bar fight that he's compelled to shut down, and the gang asks who he is, and he didn't expect this so his brain just grabs the closest story at hand: he's Matches Malone, down and out because he's still dizzy for his (green-haired) partner who's stuck in the clink after being framed by a competing arsonist. Then suddenly it turns into the The Snuggly Duckling from Tangled and all these toughs are sharing their ill-fated love stories and Matches is drawn into the bonding, and the gang swears they'll help him get revenge.
> 
> And at Bruce's next visit, John has this news clipping that the GCPD is investigating a possible arsonist gang war with Matches as a person of interest, and he just looks at Bruce all :D????


End file.
